


At Least We're Not Alone

by buzzbuzz34



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Aromantic Characters, Asexual Character, Canon Nonbinary Character, Dislocated joints, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Imprisonment, Prosthesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23789248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buzzbuzz34/pseuds/buzzbuzz34
Summary: A series of hurt/comfort fics featuring members of the LOLOMG
Relationships: Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom & Zolf Smith, Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam & Sasha Racket, Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan & Sasha Racket, Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36
Collections: Rusty Quill Gaming Exchange 2020





	1. When in Rome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intearsaboutrobots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intearsaboutrobots/gifts).



> Written for the 2020 Rusty Quill Gaming Exchange! Thank you so much for such incredible prompts, I was inspired to write something for each of them! I hope you enjoy <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grizzop and Sasha survive the wreckage of Ancient Rome, and discuss what they did (or didn't) leave behind in the present.

Grizzop dutifully handed over another arrow as Sasha beat him in cards for the hundredth time, but neither of their hearts were really in the game. It was something to do, though, something that stopped them from staring into the feeble fire for hours on end as they tried to wrap their head around what had happened.

They’d barely managed to escape the destruction of Ancient Rome with their lives intact, and now they were left with the empty dilemma of what to do next. Was there a way back to their present? Where could they go? Who could they trust?

So, as night fell, a safe distance from the still burning wreckage of the city, they set up the semblance of a camp and tried to keep their minds off of what the next day would bring. 

“Did you, uhh, leave anybody behind?” Grizzop asked, glancing over his cards toward Sasha. “Besides that gnome, and Hamid and Azu?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “My cousin was gone a long time ago, and you met my uncle. No real loss there. You guys were my family. And Zolf, I guess – I think Hamid and I mentioned him? But he’s been gone for a while too.”

“I didn’t know if you had a partner or anything.”

Sasha shrugged. “I mean, you’re basically my partner now, I think.”

“That’s not really what I meant. I meant a significant other.”

“Have you ever heard me mention a significant other?” She snapped.

“No, but I didn’t know if you were trying to protect them or be professional or something,” Grizzop explained apologetically, then he sighed. “I just… I don’t know. I thought…”

Sasha let her shoulders soften and she nodded. There was no need for them to be arguing; they were all they had left.

“No, I didn’t have a significant other. I never much cared for romance or any of that stuff, honestly. I thought at first it might be an Other London thing, like, I had to keep my emotional distance in order to survive. But it was never really something I wanted or felt, you know? Did you have a partner?” 

“Ew, no, not at all,” Grizzop responded. 

“Is that an Artemis thing?”

He shrugged. “It’s a me thing. I’m kind of lucky in that respect. Since I don’t think or worry about sex and romance, it means I have more time to do the _important_ things, saving the world, winning back all the arrows you’ve won from me, the really significant stuff.”

They grinned across at each other. 

“Not a chance,” Sasha said with a smirk and a twinkle in her eye as she set down another winning hand. She hadn’t even cheated this time; she’d just wound up with a good set of cards. 

After Grizzop handed over another adamantine arrow, Sasha continued, “I had Zolf and Hamid, and then you and Azu, and you guys were my families and my partners. I never wanted anything else. And, honestly, if I’m going to be stuck in the past in a world I don’t recognize, I’m glad I’m not alone.”

Grizzop nodded. “Partners?”

“Partners.”


	2. Shared History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cel still doesn't quite feel like part of the team. One night while they're on the road, Zolf reassures them that they still have plenty of stories to make together.

“You don’t always have to sit by yourself, you know.”

Cel looked up from their sketches of their own take on Shoin’s alchemical organ, designed in their own style, with the hopes of reproducing something similar for their own use, if on a much smaller scale. They’d been sat on the far side of the group’s little camp since they decided to stop for the night. 

“It just feels weird sometimes,” they admitted as Zolf sat next to them, not too close. “You all know each other, and I just got here.”

“That’s not entirely true. Yeah, I knew Hamid, but that was years ago, and a lot has changed. And I only met Azu about two weeks before you did.”

Cel sighed. “It’s not the same. Maybe you and Hamid aren’t picking up _right_ where you left off, but it seems pretty close, and at least you can talk to Azu about those ridiculous romance novels.”

His voice was deadly serious, but Zolf couldn’t help but smile as he spoke. “Don’t you dare besmirch the name of Harrison Campbell.”

“I’m not besmirching anything! They’re still ridiculous, though.”

Zolf shrugged. “You know, that’s fair.”

“The point is,” Cel continued, “you all have history together, even if it’s only a little bit. Stories and adventures and all that. I don’t.”

“Maybe, but how are we going to get those stories if you don’t interact with us outside of dismantling traps and blowing up ooze monsters? I don’t know much about you. And I’m not asking for the catalogue of your life, but _you_ , as a person.”

“But why do you need to know?” Cel asked, fingers tightening around their notebook. “I’m just some contractor you brought on to do a single job, and then decided to keep around. It’s not like I’m actually part of the team.”

“You are though,” Zolf insisted. “Of course, you’re part of the team.” He paused, then carried on. “I’m not saying we all have to spend every waking minute together. Everybody needs time apart and all that. I’m just trying to make sure you know that you’re welcome with us, the group, because you’re a _member_ of our group. You don’t have to sit off on the side because you feel like an outcast, we’re all outcasts in our own way.”

After a few moments, Cel replied, “Well, thank you. I’ll keep it in mind.”

The pair were silent for a while, before Zolf remarked, “You know, I spent some time in the Americas. Mostly in the ports, but-”

“Wait, were you a pirate?” Cel’s eyes lit up. “Is that how you lost your legs? Wait. I probably shouldn’t ask that.”

Zolf chuckled. “It’s fine. I lost one at sea, yeah. The other… well, that’s one of those stories that me and Hamid have, I guess. We’ll have to tell you about Mr. Ceiling at some point.”

“‘Mr. Ceiling’?”

“It’s a stupid name for a mechanical amalgamation of evil that tried to ascend to godhood; I didn’t name it.”

“Ooh, that _does_ sound interesting.”

Zolf opened his mouth several times to speak, to try and warn Cel about the dangers of Mr. Ceiling and everything it stood for but decided that was a conversation for another time. Instead, he joked, “That’s one story. I’ve got two more limbs to lose, so two more big stories to tell!” Then, he firmly added, “Please don’t let me lose anymore limbs, that was a joke. I don’t think I could handle losing any more.”

Cel smiled. “Don’t worry, the stories aren’t worth that. But, you know, I could make some upgrades to your legs if we wind up back in my workshop. What you have is pretty good, but I think I could add some hidden compartments where you could keep bombs or something.”

Attempting not to sound too skeptical, Zolf said, “We’ll see. But, hey – here’s a couple stories we can tell already, things we have in common.”

“I think I heard Hamid mention that you were the boss, back when you two first met.”

“Only on the paperwork. I wasn’t exactly a model leader.”

Cel put a hand on Zolf’s shoulder and smiled at him. “I don’t know about that.”

Zolf smiled back, thinking on how far he and all of them had come, when Hamid gave a polite cough to interrupt them.

“I’m going to take first watch, if you two want to get some rest.”

They nodded, offered their thanks, and then got settled into their bedrolls. The following evening, as the team settled in for another night on the road, Cel took a seat around the fire with their three companions. The way the others smiled at them and immediately wanted to know more about their contraptions… maybe Zolf was right.

Maybe they were a part of this team after all.


	3. Stuck in the Catacombs with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prior to the cave-in, Sasha and Hamid are separated from Zolf in the Paris Catacombs and find themselves in an inescapable trap together.

Hamid was crying again. 

It happened a lot, so Sasha wasn’t entirely sure why she was surprised. But she was annoyed. 

So what if they were stuck in a random trap, just the two of them, while lost in the catacombs underneath Paris? A trap that had broken her lockpicks? That showed no signs of wavering against Hamid’s magic? And they had no idea where Zolf was?

Sasha had been through worse.

Or, at least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she took a seat and leaned back against the wall. There was nothing much she could do; she’d looked everywhere for some kind of release mechanism, but whoever made this thing had done a remarkable job in constructing the cage. Sasha couldn’t help being a little impressed. 

She’d hoped to get a quiet moment of reprieve, a slight bit of rest after all of the running and digging they’d experienced so far in the catacombs, but Hamid had other plans. 

Feebly, he started to pound on the door with his fists. While the first few blows were decent hits, he started to barely tap the surface as another bout of tears gushed forth. 

“Would you stop that?” Sasha asked, eyebrow raised.

“How are you not freaking out about this?” Hamid squealed.

“Crying and panicking aren’t going to get us out of here. We have to wait for Zolf to find us.”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t want to just sit around while whoever set this trap is on their way to get us first!” His hands were balled up at his side as he wheeled toward Sasha.

She just shook her head. “You would be the worst person to get arrested with.”

With a huff, Hamid turned back to the door that neither of them had managed to budge. “You can sit and wait. I’m going to keep trying to get this open. And maybe, just maybe, Zolf will hear my yelling and have an easier time of finding us!”

While Hamid did have a point with his last remark, the din of him slamming his hands against the door and screaming did nothing to improve Sasha’s mood. She put a finger in each ear to try and drown him out as she thought over every bit of trap and lock knowledge she’d accrued over the years.

But plugging her ears did nothing to block out Hamid’s yelp of pain a few moments later.

“Hamid? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s… it’s fine.”

Sasha didn’t believe his trembling assurance for a second and quickly moved to his side, taking his shaking hand into her own. One of his fingers was bent at an awkward angle.

“It’s dislocated,” Sasha said. “You probably bashed it sideways.” Then, she met Hamid’s eye. “Don’t worry, Zolf will be able to set it right.”

Hamid’s lip quivered. “What if he can’t find us?”

“He will.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“I don’t,” she admitted. “But I’m not going to let myself wallow in that doubt, not while we still have a chance.”

With a small nod, followed by a grimace, Hamid said, “Maybe you have a point. Maybe a small rest couldn’t hurt.”

“We’re no good running on exhaustion, with broken fingers and no way out. And I trust that Zolf won’t give up on looking for us.”

“Thank you. If I’m going to be stuck in a mysterious trap in the underbelly of Paris, I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Sasha smiled slightly, then took off her jacket and wrapped it around Hamid’s shoulders to lead him to the side where they could sit and rest. With an arm around him, he nestled into her side, and they took the time to just breathe and let their guard down the tiniest amount.

“If you tell anyone about this, I will stab you,” Sasha murmured several minutes later, after they’d both started to drift off to sleep.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“That’s the right answer.”

Zolf would find them. And until then, they had each other.


	4. Invisible Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though Zolf has left the group in Prague, he's still in the city, and Sasha tracks him down for some more help regarding her botched resurrection.

“Your scars are still bothering you?” Zolf asked as he watched Sasha itch at the edge of her shirt again. 

“It’s fine.”

“Sasha…”

“Don’t ‘Sasha’ me, it’s fine,” she snapped, more aggressively than she meant to. 

Zolf sighed and took a seat. It had only been a couple days since he’d decided to leave the group, but he was still in Prague for the time being while tracking down any leads related to the Harlequins and his family’s involvement with them. When Sasha showed up at the door of the hotel he was staying at (some place far less classy than Hamid or Bertie would have chosen), he knew something was up. As well as he got on with Sasha, it seemed unlikely that she would check in on him for no ulterior reason. 

But if she continued to deny that reason, it would make their conversation and meeting moderately difficult.

“Okay, it’s fine. Good. I’m glad to hear it. How are things with the others?”

Zolf could barely manage to finish his question before Sasha interrupted him.

“It’s getting worse.”

“It’s getting worse?” He asked, concerned, as Sasha sunk into a chair across from him. 

“I keep waking up in a pool of my own blood,” she confessed. “And my body hurts all the time. Not in the normal way. Like, when I got exploded that time in Other London, or when Bertie fell on me, my body hurt for a while. But this… this is different.”

“I know you don’t want to, but you need to see a proper healer,” Zolf insisted.

“You _are_ a proper healer.”

He scoffed but appreciated the sentiment all the same. “I can set a bone, heal a gash, put your organs back right, but this? This is something else, something I don’t recognize. I don’t know how much help I can be, and if it’s getting worse, you need to find real help sooner rather than later.”

Sasha put her head in her hands and practically disappeared into the chair. She looked so defeated, so broken. A moment later, she sat back up and her jaw was set, but her eyes were wary.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because… because! It’s a weakness! If I have a weakness, someone can exploit it. If I go to a healer or a clinic, more people will know about the weakness, and it’s more likely someone will use it against me. That’s how it always worked in Other London.”

“You’re not in Other London anymore,” Zolf said softly but firmly. “Needing medical attention is _not_ a weakness. And, besides, if anyone tries to use it against you, you have plenty of friends now that will back you up. And maybe Bertie too.”

Sasha met his smile, then looked away quickly as she asked, “Will you go with me? If I go to a healer?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Zolf. I… I’m scared.” 

Before he could reply, offer some platitude, Sasha darted toward him and pulled him into an embrace, squeezing him tightly. Then, as suddenly as it started, she let go and was halfway across the room. 

“We can go tomorrow?” She suggested as she headed toward the door, not looking back at Zolf.

“Sounds good. Meet me here?”

Sasha nodded. “Thank you,” she said again.

“We’re going to get this sorted. And I’ll be right there with you. Nobody is going to hurt you, not while I have any say over it.”

At that, Sasha turned back and smiled. 

“I know.”


End file.
